Page 38 of Greed of Giants

I shrugged. “How could it not be? We were wealthy, obscenely rich, magic at our beck and call. We had everything we could imagine. Impossible feats and challenges became the only way to keep from boredom.”

“Not much different than it is today among the affluent.”

“Unfortunately, the same cycle repeats itself,” I mused. “Dragon hunting was like a game. My first hunt I went on with one of my older brothers, Uldric.”

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” Ilaris interrupted.

“Four of them and many sisters, but I lost count of them. My brothers and I were younger, likely why my father humored us. He’d waited a long time for sons. He was in no hurry to get rid of us.”

Ilaris’s fingers tapped her paper, her scholarly mind working. She’d have many more questions for me, but she tucked them away and gestured to me. “Go on.”

The train started with a lurch, a clear whistle that made me stiffen, then relax as it chugged out of the station, much like a horse pulling a wagon. It slowly picked up speed, the sound of it rhythmic and lulling.

“We planned for weeks. Entry points, timing, and which items to prioritize. Uldric had detailed maps with observations about dragon sleep cycles and the structural weaknesses of cave entrances. The kind of things you’d like to collect in libraries and pore over. He had a gift for strategy, but his weakness was wanting more, just one more thing. We got up the mountain without incident and into the mountain hall. There were assumptions that dragons would be beastly, but they carved stone with their fire, creating luxurious halls filled with dancing scales of light, lush carpets, and treasures placed on pedestals in every nook and cranny. You would not mind living there. We’d gone for a magical weapon known as the Rod.”

Ilaris gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, eyes wide. So she’d heard of it.

“We located it and snuck out, but when we were halfway down the mountain, we realized Uldric was missing. He’d gone back for a second item. One of the chests we’d seen on the way in. He thought he’d have time for it, but the dragon wasn’t a heavy sleeper. It awoke, and all I recall was heat and shouts to run and . . . it was one expedition that never made it into the records.”

Ilaris’s laughter was light and enticing. “Whatwas in the chest?”

I shrugged. “My brother dropped it while running.”

“And the Rod?”

“Ah, that was the worst of it. We escaped with it, but received a formal complaint from the dragons.”

“What?” Ilaris giggled. “I didn’t know dragons could write.”

“It’s complicated. She came to court, peaceably, mind you, but in the end we had to return the Rod. Dragons have long memories and keep almost perfect records of their treasure. They know down to the last coin exactly what they have. On another expedition, one of the royal guards took an old, chewed-up boot. The dragon pressed charges, but the royal guard kept it out of spite.”

Ilaris laughed so hard she wiped her eyes. “I had no idea.”

“It was ridiculous,” I said dryly. “In my younger years, I enjoyed the hunt, but quickly outgrew it.”

She beamed at me. “You’re good at storytelling.”

“Am I? I’m out of practice.”

A pause. We watched each other for a moment, until her gaze swept to the paper, studying the dragon I’d drawn for her.

“What about now?” I asked. “Are there dragons?”

“Not that I know of, nor are there firebirds. Or, if there are, they’ve done a good job at staying invisible. There are places in the world that are rarely visited, and maybe they are still there, hidden, waiting. One of the scholars is an ornithologist and most of his fieldwork involves scaling mountain peaks or going into thick forests where he can hunt for mysterious, uncataloged birds. He claims he saw a dragon once, but I’m not sure anyone believes him.”

“Anything is possible in the hidden places of the world. My people were curious, like you. We didn’t believe we’d discovered everything there was to be discovered, and we were right. We dug ourselves into devastation, but there was more, always more to be found.”

Ilaris pressed her palms together. “I have a question for you, about treasure. In the scholarly community, there are rumors about lost relics, items from the ancient past that haven’t been found yet. The Rod. The Heart and the Stone.”

“The Rod of Justice. The Cornerstone and the Heart.” My voice dropped. “One who wields all three of them has limitless magic, the power of the gods at their fingertips. It wasn’t something we sought after, for those who had were brought to justice through divine measures, which often meant death. My brother and I were reckless, foolish to steal it from a dragon, and my father was right to return it.”

“They exist then, and you know where they are.”

“The world has changed. I have an inkling of where each one might lie, protected.” I held her gaze. “But my people understood the weight of such relics. We did not seek them, for there are other things to find first.”

She smiled at me, but behind her eyes I caught hunger, bright and dangerous, the spark of a scholar who had just been handed the key to a door she’d always known existed.

A spark had been lit, and it was contagious.